The Informant
by tsuki-llama
Summary: The Office #1. An alternate path in which Hei's team discovers something about the Syndicate's plans sooner, and decide to ask for help.
1. The Informant

**Housekeeping notes:** This is the first installment in _The Office_ series, many stories of which originally appeared as chapters in _Distracting Drabbles_. Because the series has taken on a life of its own, I have moved those stories into new stories (with placeholders left behind, so as not to lose the reviews. If you reviewed the first time a story was published and want to review again, I certainly won't stop you...), labeled with the order in which they're meant to be read.

However, due to the fact that I'm writing this series without a plan and out of order, those numbers will change as I add new installments. Everything is neat and tidy over on AO3, because of the feature that allows me reorganize stories within a series. But I want to make sure everything across the two platforms is the same, since not everyone reads both sites. So, bear with me if things start to get a little messy!

Example: _The Informant_ is currently incomplete, and eventually I'll add more chapters; but I've also published a dozen stories that take place after it, and will probably keep writing more. Apologies for the chaos...

* * *

Hei tensed at the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching the doorway where he stood and pressed himself further back into the shadows. He made no move to intercept the runner; his role tonight was merely to provide a distraction. The Syndicate wanted this target alive and out of the hands of the police.

Section Four had gotten close, too close to the target on more than one occasion. Hei had no idea what would happen if the man was caught by either party, but the higher-ups were clearly nervous about the possibility. There was a lot that he didn't know about the higher-ups and the games they played with their assets' lives. He'd never cared to know; but things were different now. Now, he couldn't help but wonder.

The target's footsteps pounded past his hiding place; the man didn't so much as turn his head in Hei's direction as he flew past and down towards the busy street at the end of the alleyway.

Lucky. Hei was wearing his Li costume tonight, and even though he'd swapped his usual white shirt for a forest green button-down, it was no replacement for black. The target would have easily spotted him if he'd been paying attention.

The man's footsteps had just faded into general noise of Shinjuku's nightlife when another set of running steps alerted Hei to the presence of the chaser, fast approaching. He couldn't see around the edge of the doorway, but the racing footsteps were loud and clear.

Still tensed, Hei took a deep breath. The timing had to be just right.

The chaser rapidly drew abreast of his doorway. It was now or never.

He let out the breath that he'd been holding and stepped out into the middle of the alley.

Kirihara Misaki hit his shoulder at full force. Prepared for the blow, Hei didn't even stagger; Kirihara, on the other hand, fell backwards, her eyes wide with surprise.

Reflexively, Hei reached out and caught her upper arm before she could topple over. She let out a startled _Oh!_ as he pulled her back onto her feet and into his chest. The hilt of her gun was obvious where pressed into his shoulder.

"Oh, Chief Kirihara!" Hei exclaimed in his best Li voice. "Um." He looked down at his grip on her arm and let go, jumping back several inches in awkward embarrassment. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean - I didn't see you!"

The police chief blinked. "Li? What - don't worry about it. Did you see a man run through here just now?" She craned her neck to look past his shoulder; Hei shifted his weight innocently, blocking her view.

"A man? No, I didn't see anyone. Besides you, I mean -"

"Never mind. I've got to run - you should be more careful, it's not safe to wander around dark alleys this late at night."

"Oh right, sorry…" Hei trailed off as Kirihara politely but hurriedly pushed past him and started off down the long alleyway. She'd taken only a few steps before she glanced back over her shoulder at him, frowning. Then with a slight shake of her head, she took off after the target once again.

Hei watched her go with narrowed eyes, his heart pounding. The delay had been less than a minute, but that should have been plenty of time for Huang to grab the asset, get him loaded into the car, and disappear into the busy traffic before Kirihara caught so much as a glimpse.

However, the success of the mission was the last thing on his mind right now.

"Well?" a familiar voice asked from the shadows.

"It's done," he said flatly.

The bell on Mao's collar jingled as leapt onto a nearby dumpster and scratched his ear nervously. "I hope you know what you're doing - we're putting an awful lot of trust into your judgment here, Hei."

Hei continued staring down the alley mouth. Kirihara disappeared around the corner, ponytail streaming out behind her. "I _don't_ trust my judgment," he admitted. "But I do trust _her_."

And in a few hours, he'd know whether this risk had even the smallest chance of paying off - or if he'd just made the worst mistake of his life.

~~~~o~~~~

"Damn, damn, damn," Misaki muttered to herself. She kicked the tire on her Porsche once to drive the point home. " _Damn_."

The buzzing of her phone interrupted another string of curses. Misaki pulled it out of her jacket pocket and leaned against the car. "Anything?"

"Negative," Saitou answered. "Disappeared right out from under us."

She sighed. "I had him in sight before he turned up a blind alley. But it was dark, and I ran into someone; I lost him."

"Shit. Maybe we'll get another chance?"

Misaki appreciated the optimism in her subordinate's voice, even if she didn't believe it. "Maybe," she said. "Let's reconvene at headquarters for a debrief." Without waiting for a reply, she snapped the phone shut and gazed moodily down at the pavement in front of her.

She'd been so close to catching EG-388! He'd been right in front of her, not twenty yards away before disappearing; that alleyway was the _only_ place he could have gone, but Li had said that he hadn't seen anyone. Unless he'd ducked through a door and into the back of a shop? But if he'd done that, Li still should have seen him.

Li. She might have actually nabbed the contractor if she hadn't run into Li and wasted those valuable seconds. Misaki hated to curse at someone as sweet as him, but…damn it! His timing couldn't have been more terrible if he'd tried.

That unexpected thought froze her foot halfway to her tire. No…that was ridiculous. It was a coincidence, that was all. Why would Li be working with a contractor?

The cop side of her brain asked, _Why would Li be lurking in a dark alleyway and lie about seeing anyone else there?_

She shook her head. A couple of coincidences were _not_ evidence of any sort of wrongdoing. There was no reason for him to _not_ be in that alley, really. Maybe he'd just been taking a shortcut. Tracking down EG-388 was what was important now.

It wasn't until she reached into her pants pocket for her car keys that she found the note.

~~~~o~~~~

 _The police have been compromised. I can help._

The words danced in her head the entire drive back to the office, burned themselves into the back of her eyeballs. Who had sent that note, and what did it mean? Compromised by _who_? If it was a joke, it was a poor one.

The handwriting on the scrap of paper was barely legible; she didn't recognize it. There was no way of telling who had slipped it into her pocket, or when. It could have happened at any time throughout the long day.

Although really, there was only one logical explanation. It was just the one that made the least sense, and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach every time she thought about it.

She'd run the several blocks back to that alleyway after discovering the message; but it was empty except for a black cat skulking in the shadows, only visible by the distant street lights reflected in its eyes. Li had vanished as thoroughly as EG-388.

Had someone asked him to slip the note to her, put him up to it? She'd never felt a thing; that, coupled with the perfect timing with which he'd stepped out of the shadows...she shivered in spite of herself. In retrospect, that had been no amateur move - if it had indeed been him.

There were no details about a meeting, not even after she'd scoured both sides of the scrap, and she spent the entire debrief so distracted by the message that even her team noticed, exchanging worries glances with each other. But until she knew what it meant, she didn't dare mention it.

Misaki didn't arrive home until after one in the morning. With a tired sigh, she unlocked her apartment and kicked off her shoes into the tray by the door as she flipped on the light. - and saw a pair of worn, shabby sneakers already there.

For a brief, stupid moment she thought that she must be in the wrong apartment. Then she looked up.

Li was sitting on her sofa, wearing a dark green shirt and jeans, his expression dark and unreadable. His posture was casual - leaning forward, arms resting on his knees - but it was obvious that he'd been waiting for her.

Misaki stood frozen for a long moment, heart pounding in sudden fear as she tried to make sense of his presence. How he'd gotten in and how he even knew where she lived was hardly relevant at the moment. Her hand was still on the door handle; her phone was in her pocket, her gun strapped to her chest. Whatever was going on, she had the upper hand.

With that bit of knowledge to bolster her confidence, she asked levelly, "What are you doing here?"

"You know who I am."

It wasn't a question. His voice was cold and flat, nothing like what she'd heard from him before; and as soon as he said the words, all those coincidences became clear and she knew.

"BK-201."

He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, or perhaps approval.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated. She didn't take her hand from the doorknob.

"I'm just here to talk." He twisted his wrists so that his palms were facing up, empty. It was an empty gesture, considering his power; but she could appreciate it.

"Is this about your note?"

He nodded once. Misaki stayed where she was, but relaxed her grip on the door handle. If he was there to kill her, he would have done it already; he certainly wouldn't have taken his shoes off first. She'd never had a more considerate house breaker.

"So what exactly is this about?" she demanded. "What did you mean, the police have been compromised?"

"Do you know anything about who I work for?"

She frowned, debating how much to give away. But without knowing what he wanted, it was impossible to judge. "No," she admitted at last. "I don't know a damn thing."

"They're an international conglomerate known as the Syndicate. They have people in all the major governments and intelligence agencies, including yours." His voice was eerily without inflection, almost robotic.

"A global conspiracy? That's a little far-fetched." So was this entire situation. Was she seriously having a conversation with the Black Reaper, on her living room sofa?

He shrugged.

"Okay, so let's assume you're telling the truth." Misaki let go of the door handle and took a few steps into the living room, where she stopped in front of the sofa - out of easy reach - and folded her arms. "Your Syndicate has people in the Japanese government - who are they, and what do they want?"

"I don't know."

An edge of frustration began to squash her fear. Why the hell was he here, talking to her? _Was_ this some of joke? "You -" she began, but he interrupted.

"I've worked for them for the past ten years. I still have no idea who they are or what their purpose is. I never cared, before."

"But you do now?" She eyed him, trying to figure out whether he was telling the truth or not. But unlike Li, his expression was impossible to read. "Why?"

He stared at the carpet between his feet, as if collecting his thoughts. "One of my team members listened in on a conversation that he shouldn't have," he said after a long pause. "He didn't catch all of the details, but it sounded as if the Syndicate's higher-ups are preparing for another Heaven's Gate disaster, at Hell's Gate. It sounded as if they're planning it."

Misaki's heart caught in her throat. An event like that, even if at a fraction of the magnitude, would be horrific. "You can't be serious."

"He might have misunderstood. But...there are things - recent events - that make me think he was right."

Her mind was racing. She wanted details, any scrap of information that he could provide. But first, she had to take a step back and ask the most important question. "So what are you doing here - why come to me? And what does this have to do with the police?"

"I'm pretty sure that one of the higher-ups has a high position in the police. I don't want what happened in South America to happen here. Neither does the rest of my team."

Misaki raised an eyebrow. Altruism? From a contractor?

He continued, "But we're just tools of the Syndicate - we have no resources or power beyond what they give to us. And even then, I wouldn't know what to do with that information. But you might be able to do something. It would help us both - get rid of your mole in the police, and protect us from the Syndicate's plan."

Typical contractor logic, she thought. Saving Japan from a nationwide disaster was more than enough motivation for her to want to help; it didn't have to be so personal to convince her. Assuming that he wasn't lying through his teeth.

"You say that the Syndicate has infiltrated the police. How do you know that I'm not one of them?"

He regarded her steadily; she refused to flinch. "I don't," he admitted. "It's possible that you are. But I don't think it's likely."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I can't really say. I just have to trust my instincts."

Misaki drummed her fingers on her arm. Trust. _If_ he was telling the truth, then he was taking a massive risk just showing up here, letting her see his face, and telling her all of this. She couldn't think of any reason why he would take that risk, unless he was telling the truth. The question was, just how far could she trust a contractor - especially one with the reputation of BK-201.

Well, if he could trust her thus far, she could at least reciprocate a tiny bit. Moving slowly so as not to accidentally spook him, she crossed the few feet to the sofa and sat down on the opposite end. He tensed the tiniest bit, but otherwise didn't react.

"Alright," she said. "Let's say that I believe you. What exactly is it that you propose to do?"

Despite her change in position, he didn't move to face her; it was almost as if he was more comfortable addressing the floor.

"I can pass you information about our jobs. The Syndicate's been very interested in Gate-related artifacts recently; and I've met a couple of high-ranking Pandora officials that you might be interested in."

Misaki sat up a little straighter. She certainly _would_ be interested in knowing exactly what Pandora was up to. But… "When you say information about your jobs, do you mean before or after the fact?"

"After. If Section Four intercepts all of our missions, the Syndicate will know someone from my team tipped you off. This is about putting together the big picture."

"I know how to run a confidential informant," Misaki said testily. "But there has to be a give and take here - I can't sit idly by waiting for you to feed me bits and pieces only to find out that there _is_ no big picture. No offense, but so far I have no reason to trust you."

He nodded wearily. "That contractor you were chasing tonight - we, uh, accidentally let him escape. Into police custody. He can tell you a lot about a certain device that his employers are working on."

Misaki eyed him as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. He met her gaze without flinching; was there worry in his eyes, or was she imagining it? She dialed Saitou's number.

"Chief!" her subordinate answered, "I was just about to call you! Unit three-oh reported that they caught a man matching IE-388's description. I checked it out, and it's him; we're heading to headquarters now."

Misaki hoped that the surprise wasn't showing on her face. "Good. I'm on my way; hold the interrogation until I get there."

She snapped her phone shut. "You prepared that ahead of time? Before you knew what my answer would be?"

"We thought you might want proof that we're willing to cooperate. And he deserved to be caught."

The bitterness in his tone caught her off guard, but she let that latter statement go for now. "By _we_ you mean your team? Will I be able to meet them?"

"No," he said, almost sharply. "I'm the only one you'll be dealing with."

Interesting, she mused. Was he trying to protect them by taking the bulk of the risk on himself? Out loud she asked, "So what is it that you want in return?"

"Let us leave the country unimpeded."

Misaki blinked, surprised. "That's it? No money, no official pardons, offers of new identities?"

He shrugged. "If the Syndicate catches wind of our betrayal, we'll have to run. If they don't, and you manage to stop whatever it is that they're planning, then we'll be out of a job. And we'll still probably have to run; they have the resources to hunt us down. There's not much that the police can do to protect us."

"Alright," Misaki said slowly. She still wasn't entirely sure that this conversation was actually happening, that she wasn't dreaming while asleep at her desk. "This is what I'll agree to. From tonight on, you'll be my confidential informant. I'll make my own personal records of our meetings, but they'll use coded language and be kept under lock and key. Unless absolutely necessary, I won't tell anyone on my team that I even have a CI; if you're right, and this is a long game that the Syndicate is playing, the best strategy will be to watch and wait while we collect information."

He nodded his agreement, and she continued, "You and I will have regular meetings. I'll leave you to arrange those, since you'll have a better idea than me whether you're being watched and when it's safe to talk. You'll give me _all_ the details of your jobs, _beforehand_ \- and I promise I won't interfere unless it's absolutely necessary, in which case I'll warn you that I intend to make a move."

His eyes narrowed slightly at that, but he didn't protest it.

"In return for your information, I'll refrain from arresting you in the field" - as if she'd ever come close, but still - "and when you or any of your team deem it necessary to leave Japan, I'll make sure that you get out. This agreement will stand until I have the leadership of the Syndicate in police custody. Is this acceptable?"

To her relief, he didn't answer right away, but instead took a few moments to consider. That was a good sign that he was really in earnest about this proposal, absurd though it seemed. At last, he nodded once. "Agreed."

"Good. I won't make you sign in papers for the sake of secrecy, but can we shake on it?" Willing her muscles to remain steady and not tremble, she held out her hand.

The Black Reaper looked at it as if _she_ was the one with the power to kill at a touch; then, slowly, he reached out his own hand and shook. His palm was surprisingly warm, his grip firm without being overbearing.

Misaki smiled in almost giddy relief. "Alright. It'll be interesting working with you, Li."

"Hei."

"What?"

"Hei. That's my name. I'm only Li in public."

There was a note of disappointment in his voice, she thought. "Hei, then."

He nodded again, then stood abruptly and headed towards the door and his shoes.

"One more thing," Misaki called out. When he turned, she said sternly, "The next time you stop by here, you knock first."

A sheepish expression flitted across his face before returning to blankness. "Yeah. Sorry. I just wanted to get your attention this time."

Misaki watched him leave; it wasn't until several minutes after the door had shut behind him that her heart rate finally returned to normal. She sighed and rested her chin in her hand, thinking. Li, the Black Reaper! Stranger still, BK-201, working with the police?

She'd never taken such a huge risk before. Either this would pay off in spades, or she'd just made the worst mistake of her life.


	2. The Dead Drop

Hei skulked in the dark, narrow passage between two rundown houses. There was only one street lamp on the block, its soft radius of light fading into the shadows well away from Hei's waiting place. Even so, he pressed himself close against the nearest clapboard wall and out of sight of the quiet street.

He wasn't supposed to be here tonight. He'd donned his Li disguise to better blend in with the neighborhood's inhabitants in case he was spotted lurking about, but that just made him feel more out of place. It was the Black Reaper who lurked, not Li.

After waiting for what felt like hours, his ears picked out the soft padding of careful footsteps amidst the general nighttime noises of the out-of-the-way neighborhood.

The footsteps came closer; Hei held his breath and listened carefully. Yes. He was almost sure that it was her. Time to give her a heads up that he was already there.

He stepped out of the passage and onto the sidewalk - a moment too late.

Kirihara stopped dead in her tracks in surprise at his sudden appearance. Her mouth opened to speak, and Hei - to his own silent horror - acted on reflex. He clamped a hand over her mouth at the same time that he grabbed her arm and pulled her with him back into the shadows.

"Don't scream," he whispered, already imagining the painful death that she was surely about to subject him to.

She elbowed him hard in the ribs, but he had already let her go. "I wasn't going to scream," she hissed in a low voice as she took an obvious step away from him and straightened her jacket. "I don't scream when strange men leap out of alleys and grab me. I mean - you could have warned me you were there!"

"I, uh, I meant to," Hei said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "I misjudged it. Sorry."

"Well." She made a show of brushing some invisible piece of dirt off her lapel. "Why are we meeting here, anyway? I would have preferred my car again; less chance of being seen or overheard that way." There was no one else on the street, but she craned her neck to scan the area anyway.

"I don't have a death wish." Shit. Had he said that out loud?

"What?"

Yes. Yes he had. "Um, I just mean that you drive…very…aggressively. It's hard to focus on what I'm saying when I'm terrified that we're about to smash into the back of another car."

She folded her arms; her expression wasn't clear in the darkness, but Hei was pretty sure that she was scowling. "I'm a precision driver. I know what I'm doing; I've never even been in an accident."

"What about the people driving behind you," Hei muttered.

"What was that?"

"I said, you could give the Syndicate's driving instructors lessons." He actually meant that. Hei had learned basic driving skills before being shipped off to South America; when he'd returned, he'd been enrolled in the Syndicate's advanced course for special ops agents. The course was taught by a former Formula One racer and an ex-stunt car driver. Kirihara would have been right at home with them. "But that's not why we're meeting here."

He placed a careful hand at the small of her back and gently turned her to face one of the houses across the street. She didn't flinch at his touch - she never had, the handful of times that he'd had occasion to make physical contact during their short time working together so far. It was a strangely refreshing experience. "Do you see that window, the one with the blue lamp?"

Kirihara nodded; reluctantly, Hei let his hand drop.

"The blue light identifies that house as a dead drop. The post of the iron gate has a loose cap; messages are deposited there."

"Messages for who?"

"I don't know. For jobs that don't go through my handler. I leave a note explaining the outcome of the mission. I flip the sign that says welcome to the side that says keep out. And that's it."

"You don't know who picks them up?"

"No. I don't know if anyone else uses it as a drop either. It's probable, though."

Kirihara placed a hand on the corner of the house and leaned forward a little, as if those few inches would make the scene across the street any clearer. "Hm. You tell me about your jobs, so there's no need for me to read the notes. But if I set up some sort of watch here…nothing too conspicuous…shit, I can't use an officer without making it an official mission. A webcam, maybe?" She waved a hand, apparently to herself. "Doesn't matter now. However I do it, I could find out who's picking them up." She turned back to him. "I'll make sure to run the description by you before making any moves - I wouldn't want to accidentally nab one of your teammates. Since you still won't tell me who they are."

"That's…yeah. Thanks," Hei managed in his surprise at her consideration. She'd asked him about his team each time they'd met so far - but only once, before changing the subject after he refused. It was clear that even though she wanted to know, and hoped that he would change his mind, she wasn't going to push him on it. He appreciated that concern more than he would have expected.

The door to the house upon which Kirihara was leaning slammed suddenly. She jumped back - right into Hei. He automatically reached up and gripped her upper arms to prevent them both from falling over.

"Sorry," Kirihara muttered as they listened to the owner of the house trot down the stairs and into the street.

Hei let go of her, his heart inexplicably pounding. "It's fine. We should, uh, probably go. Before someone else walks by and sees us."

"Yeah. So, when's our next meeting?"

He wanted to say tomorrow night, but there was no reason for it. "Wednesday morning is our usual debrief. I'll try and find you that afternoon or evening if I receive any orders."

She nodded. "Alright. Can I give you a lift home?"

"Um…no. Thanks. I'll walk."

Her smile caught him completely off guard. "Your loss. See you on Wednesday."

She left the alley between the houses and strode out into the street, footsteps fading into the distance. Hei leaned against the peeling siding, trying to figure out why his legs suddenly felt like jelly - and why that always seemed to happen when he was watching her walk away from him.


	3. The Lunch

Hei was early to the rendezvous.

He usually was. On a normal mission he preferred to be in position ahead of time, hidden in a key vantage point so that he could observe his contact (or target, as the case may be) as they arrived - size them up, make sure they'd come alone and weren't planning on setting up any traps for him. Then he would make them wait well past the designated time before he revealed himself; their natural anxiety would build, working against them as they wondered whether they were merely being stood up - or set up.

This afternoon, however, not only was he at the park early, but he fully intended to be at the agreed upon bench - waiting out in the open - _before_ Chief Kirihara arrived. He felt instinctively that making her wait would not throw her off balance like it usually did to his contacts, but would simply irritate her. It was definitely in his best interest to not irritate her. And, although he wouldn't dare admit it to anyone, a part of him actually wanted to do the impossible and go beyond simply remaining in her good books. He wanted to impress her.

What the hell was wrong with him.

Today he was early, but he wasn't _that_ early. Hei trotted quickly down the broad steps leading from the busy road to the park entrance, two plastic bags of Chinese takeout in his hand. Just a normal waiter on a normal lunch break going to sit down and eat a normal lunch in the park.

A lot of people seemed to have the same idea in mind. There was a steady stream of students and businessmen heading down the stairs as well, boxed lunches and plastic bags dangling from their hands. One lone person was moving against the flow of traffic: an elderly woman with a silver orthopedic cane was making her slow but steady way up the steps, like a white-haired tortoise wading up a rushing creek.

She was about halfway up when Hei passed her. He stepped smartly to the side to give her room; and in that brief moment a couple of teenage boys pushed through the small gap between Hei and the woman, shouldering him hard.

His hand automatically went to his pocket to check that his wallet was still there - but as he did, he saw the old woman stagger. She attempted to plant her cane to steady herself but the shove had pushed her backwards and she missed her footing.

Hei acted on reflex. He dropped his bags, and reached out and caught her shoulders before she could topple over.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" he asked as the crowd of people continued streaming heedlessly by.

The old woman blinked up at him owlishly. "Yes, yes I think so - no thanks to those rude children. I could have broken my neck." She cast a dirty look over her shoulder in the general direction the boys had disappeared in. "Bastards!"

"Uh," Hei said, for lack of anything better to say. The woman seemed steady enough on her feet; Hei released her shoulders. "Do you need help up the stairs?"

"Bless you, no; I'm in no hurry. I'll get there eventually." She patted him on the arm. "Thank you so much for your help, young man. You must be a very dutiful grandson to your grandparents."

An unexpected pain lanced through Hei's heart. "Um, I guess so," he lied. He hadn't seen his grandparents in ten years; he had no idea whether they were even still alive.

And he'd never once heard _his_ grandmother swear.

The old woman gave him a cheery nod and resumed her plodding path up the steps. Hei watched her absently as the crowd continued to jostle by, fighting a mental battle with a surge of old memories and emotions that were threatening to resurface. Of course his grandparents were still alive; they weren't that old.

At least, they hadn't been that old ten years ago.

Lost in melancholy, something drew his gaze higher up the steps, beyond the woman making her slow but steady progress. Chief Kirihara was standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed and staring down at him like Judgment Day.

His pulse picked up just the tiniest bit, and suddenly he wished that he'd followed his usual strategy of lying in wait; he was feeling far too much like an exposed target. It was unnerving, her eying him like that, knowing exactly who he was. It also made it more difficult to figure out who to be. He couldn't act like the Black Reaper in public, but _Li_ didn't quite work for this situation either. He'd tried that at their first daylight meeting a week ago, and her impatience with the over-friendly persona had been clear.

He stayed where he was, watching as Kirihara stepped lightly down the stairway to join him.

"Did I really just see the Black Reaper helping a little old lady cross the street?" she asked in a low voice.

Hei blinked at her. Something was different about her usual stern expression. Was she - was she trying to a hide a _smile_? "Um," he said, as usual failing to settle on either the Reaper or Li when in her presence and ending up with a confused mix of both. "She wasn't crossing the street, just…going up the stairs."

Kirihara's smile broke through like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. "That's what I thought. Come on; let's go sit and talk."

She continued down the stairs without waiting to see if he was following. Hei stood frozen for a moment; then he stooped to pick up the bags that he'd dropped and trotted after her.

They made their way down the park's path to the designated bench in silence, but it was a friendly silence. Hei focused his mental energy on _not_ trying to evaluate every movement of her shoulders, every flicker of her eyes, the slight upward curve of her mouth, and simply enjoy being present. It was surprisingly nice.

Kirihara sat down in the center of the bench, leaving Hei no choice but to settle in between her and the wrought iron arm. It made sense from the point of view of their cover - two friends meeting for a casual lunch - but didn't leave much actual space between them. His palms were sweating slightly as he pulled the two styrofoam containers out of the plastic bags.

It was a warm day.

She was watching him again. He cleared his throat. "Are you hungry?"

"I haven't had lunch yet," she said after a long moment.

Hei passed over one of the containers. "Fried rice with shrimp."

"Ooh, I love fried rice! Thanks."

The corner of his mouth quirked up at her enthusiasm, and he handed her a pair of chopsticks with relief. She opened the container, and, after pushing a couple of peas off the top of the huge mound of rice, scooped up a heaping amount.

"Mm," she said around the mouthful of rice, "This is good. Do you get free food all the time at the restaurant?"

Hei shrugged and opened his own container of fried rice and pork. "There's usually at least a couple of orders that someone's sent back; I can take those. And if there aren't any, the cook will make me something."

"That's nice of him."

"Mr. Komori seems to think that since I eat so much at one time, lunch is the _only_ time I eat. He's worried that I'll starve if I don't get at least three meals' worth of food from him."

Kirihara snorted a laugh. "You're like a stray cat."

"What?"

"A cat who's adopted several families in the same neighborhood - they all feed him thinking that he won't get any food otherwise."

Hei thought of Mao and the girl at the Home Run House who set food out for him every day, despite the fact that Huang provided him with all the canned salmon he could eat. "I guess."

Kirihara chewed another mouthful. "You know, in that getup you almost look like a real waiter."

Something in his stomach soured at her words. "I _am_ a real waiter."

"You're acting like one now, but we both know what your real job is." Before he could say anything to defend himself, she continued, "Speaking of which - your star showed an awful lot of activity last night, but we didn't find any bodies. Care to explain what you were up to?"

Straight to business then. He tried not to let his disappointment show as he launched into an explanation of the job. Kirihara asked endless questions, most of them concerning details that Hei either had no way of knowing (why _was_ the Syndicate interested in a wholesale retailer of brown rice flour) or simply hadn't thought to pay attention to (were there health and safety inspection certificates on display). He was quickly learning that the information needed to commit a crime wasn't quite the same as what was required to solve one. Next time, he resolved, he would keep that in mind.

Kirihara was thinking hard, her brow furrowed in that way she had. At last she sighed. "I don't know. Given what you've told me so far, collecting Gate-related artifacts seems to be a top priority for more than just your team; but I can't see any connection here." She looked down at her container; after poking the last three peas towards the little pile she'd built in the corner, she scooped up the last of the rice and shoved it thoughtfully into her mouth. Hei had never seen anyone besides himself polish off that much food so quickly; he was impressed in spite of himself.

"I was able to get a few photos of a man picking up something from your dead drop," she continued. "No hits on it yet; he's definitely not someone with the police, unfortunately - that's who I really want. But I was thinking: what if we were to plant a false message? Something that would spook the moles in the police, stir them up, get them to reveal themselves somehow?"

Hei shrugged. "I can write it out in the right code. I don't know what message that would be, though."

"Hm, me either. I have to think about it some more." She tapped her chopsticks absently on the edge of the container, studying him thoughtfully. Or at least, gazing in his direction while she thought about the problem. "We -" she began, but the buzzing of her phone cut her off. She pulled it out of her pocket and flipped it open to look at the screen. "Damn, I have to go. Well, see if you can come up with anything, and we'll reconvene in the next day or two."

"Sure."

Kirihara stood up, shouldering her purse. "Sorry for giving you a hard time about the waiter thing - that uniform just looks so natural on you, it made me a little sad for a moment." She flashed him a sudden smile. "You know, I'd almost like to see you in a real suit one day." Then she turned abruptly; he couldn't read her expression. "Thanks for lunch."

"Um, sure."

Hei watched her stride away down the path, towards the park entrance and the stairs. He made a mental note to try and schedule their next rendezvous for another lunch break - and to be sure to ask Mr. Komori for a dish without peas.

He definitely _wasn't_ blushing. It was just a hot day.


	4. The Pool

The pool area was empty when Hei pushed through the door from the men's changing room. At least, he was pretty sure it was empty. A thin mist hung just above the surface of the heated water - there had been a cold snap that week, and this wing must not have been very well-insulated, despite being completely indoors.

He wandered down the side, the decking damp on his bare feet. There was no sound of splashing from early morning swimmers; only the low hum of the pump somewhere in the distance.

The muggy atmosphere reminded him of those awful summers in central Brazil. The Syndicate had sent him and his sister to die in that war-torn hellhole; they'd kill him now if they knew he was here. They'd kill his whole team. His life - all their lives - rested in Kirihara's hands. A cop's hands - a fact which Huang reminded him of on a near-daily basis. If he was mistaken about her…

Hei gave himself a mental shake. There was no room for those kinds of thoughts, not now. Kirihara was a contact just like any of his other contacts. He had to trust her to the extent necessary to accomplish their goal, but he needed to remain on his guard. That was the only way to survive. Keeping up regular interactions in addition to exchanging information was part of the process.

It didn't look like she was here yet, though. What if she wasn't coming at all? Yin had told him that she swam on _most_ mornings; not every morning. For a moment he considered turning around and leaving - there was no point in staying if she wasn't here, and if anyone from the Syndicate happened to see him hanging around the gym that Section Four's chief frequented, he'd be hard pressed to come up with an explanation.

But it was early still; before six. She might still show. That thought alone was enough to send a little skip through his heartbeat and solidified his decision.

Hei completed his circuit of the empty pool. It was an Olympic-sized pool, split into regular lanes by red and white floating dividers. He paused at the edge of the center lane and eyed the water dubiously. It had been a few years since he'd done any regular swimming, and he had no desire to pick it up again. If he _had_ to swim, he preferred the open ocean. But, his cover was that he was here to do laps. So, laps he would do. At least there was no area deeper than five feet here.

He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and adjusted his swim suit self-consciously, even though there was no one here to see him. Taking a deep breath, he dove into the lane.

At least, he'd meant to dive; he'd angled too shallowly and instead he hit stomach-first, sending up a huge splash of water. Coughing, skin stinging, Hei surfaced. His eyes were burning - where had his goggles gone? He coughed out another lungful of water and spotted them floating a couple feet away. Quickly he snatched them up and scanned the pool again. It would be just his luck if Kirihara had chosen that moment to arrive and see him make a total fool of himself. She would laugh, and…

The pool area was still empty. Hei squinted into the far corners of the room where the mist was a bit heavier; no one was there. Inexplicably disappointed, he replaced the goggles over his eyes, tightened the strap to keep them on this time, and struck out down the lane.

It only took one laborious trip across the pool to remind him how much he truly hated laps. This was stupid; there were other things he could do while waiting for Kirihara besides swim.

Resting his arms on the side of the pool, he gazed at the long set of shelves that was arranged along the wall. There were life vests, kickboards, some foam noodles…he scanned the items until he saw a set of purple cuffs that looked fairly dense. Hei hoisted himself out of the water and, dripping, padded over to the shelf. He lifted one of the cuffs; it was about five pounds. An ankle weight, probably. Two should work.

Instead of diving in this time, Hei simply sat at the edge of the deck and slipped into the water, holding the weights against his stomach. It had been a long time since he'd tried this - nearly as long as the time since he'd last swum laps - but he still did a lot of deep breathing during meditation sessions. The concept was the same. Ignoring the panic was the key.

Standing chest-deep in the water, Hei closed his eyes and inhaled slowly through his mouth, filling his lungs, before exhaling at an even slower rate. After the second breath cycle, he could feel his heart rate starting to drop and his muscles relaxing. He took one last deep breath, pushing his ribs out to the limit of their expansion, then let the weights pull him down.

Once he felt his rear settle onto the slippery tiled pool bottom, he crossed his legs and cradled the weights in his lap. Then he opened his eyes.

A couple of tiny bubbles escaped from his nose and floated up; he watched them detachedly. It was much more peaceful below the surface. The overhead lights filtered softly through the water; the hum of the pool's pump was quiet white noise in the distant background.

It took about thirty seconds for his lungs to start to burn, but he reminded himself that he'd felt this sensation before; he could outlast it. Instead of focusing on the sensation, he stared down the black stripe of his lane as it extended away, narrowing into the far distance. Forty seconds passed, then a minute. The fire in his chest faded as his mind accepted that he was, in fact, not yet dead.

His previous record had been three minutes, twenty seconds. He doubted he could manage that today - it would be stupid to try - but he might be able to get to two. His brain mentally ticked off one minute ten seconds. Twenty…

A sudden splash from the far end of his lane snapped his attention back to the pool. A woman in a blue swim cap and black suit emerged from a cloud of bubbles, propelling forward with a strong and sure stroke. Directly towards him. With a jolt, Hei realized that she was looking down instead of ahead; she didn't see him.

Now the panic crept into his bloodstream, constricting his lungs. She was halfway across the pool already; should he move? One minute, thirty seconds. He needed air, he needed to surface before -

The woman was already on top of him. She ducked her head to start a flip turn - and stared down directly into his face.

Falling upside-down while underwater should not have been possible, but that was exactly what she did, her mouth opening in a surprised exhalation as she crashed into the wall right on top of him.

Hei dropped his weights and pushed up hard, his lungs burning. They surfaced together in a confused tangle, choking and gasping for air.

"Hei? What are you _doing_ here?" Kirihara coughed. She pushed her goggles onto her forehead and wiped the water out of her eyes.

Even a mere two feet away, Hei almost didn't recognize her. Her long hair was tucked up under the tight swim cap, accentuating her long, graceful neck. Her eyes, normally hidden behind thick lenses, were a startlingly warm brown.

"Um," Hei spluttered, attempting to refocus and get his breath back at the same time. "Waiting for you."

"At the bottom of the pool?" she asked in disbelief.

"I was practicing some freediving exercises. You're late; I got bored."

Kirihara drifted back a bit to rest her arms on the floating lane divider. "What do you mean, late? How do you know when I usually get here?"

Her tone was more curious than suspicious, Hei noted with relief. "I asked Yin where I could find you; she told me that you're usually here around five-thirty," he said, pulling off his own goggles and brushing a wide chunk of hair out of his eyes.

"Yin?"

Shit - he shouldn't have said that. "The doll on my team," he said shortly.

Kirihara's eyes widened slightly. "You have your doll keeping an eye on me?"

"No. But she had a vote in our decision to reach out to you too; she's probably just worried like the rest of us."

"Worried? You're still afraid you can't trust me."

The hurt in her voice was clear; shit, he hadn't meant to imply that at all. "What we're doing is a risk regardless," he said with a heavy sigh. "None of us can afford to get complacent where the Syndicate is involved." He couldn't help but glance around the still-empty room; even just saying the name of his employers aloud was enough to send a chill through his blood. If they caught the two of them talking…

When he turned back to Kirihara, her mouth was twisting into a slight smile.

"What?" he asked.

She bit her lip. "Nothing. Well, let's get to business."

Hei eyed her; she was clearly holding something back. "What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just…" She drew a circle around her eye with a fingertip. "I think your goggles were a little too tight."

"What?" Hei reached up and felt a clear indentation beside his eye where the rubber seal of his goggles had rested. Fantastic. The way she was smiling, though, sent a flush of heat through his blood that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "It's been a while since I've done much swimming," he said defensively.

"Alright," Kirihara said, still smiling. "What did you want to see me about?"

Shit. "Nothing in particular. I mean, it's been a week since we last talked, so I, uh, just wanted to check in."

"Check in?" She paused in thought, idly letting one foot drift up towards the surface of the water, then the other, as she leaned into the lane divider. "I did get another photo off the webcam. This man has been passing by the dead drop frequently; he never stops, never even looks towards that house, but something about it has my instincts buzzing. I haven't a chance to run it through the system yet though."

"Do you have the photo now?" Hei asked. He doubted that anyone simply walking by the house must automatically have a connection to the Syndicate; but he couldn't discount Kirihara's instincts either.

"Yeah; it's on my phone. Come on."

Without waiting for answer, she pulled her goggles back down and struck out down the lane to the opposite end of the pool where a row of lounge chairs lined the wall. Unable to suppress a grimace, Hei followed with a slow, awkward breast stroke.

He swam the last couple of yards underwater. Kirihara was already perched on the edge of the deck, her legs dangling in the water, ankles crossed. Her toenails were painted a pale, feminine pink, he noted with surprise; though why that would be surprising was beyond him.

She raised one eyebrow when he surface. "Is that really your breast stroke?"

"Yes, Hei said defensively. He stayed in the water, crossing his arms on the deck next to her. She must have left her phone sitting on one of the lounge chairs when she began her swim, because she held it in her hand now.

"How did you learn to swim - did someone just throw you into the deep end and hope for the best?"

Her tone was teasing, but Hei answered honestly. "Yes."

Kirihara blinked. "What, really?"

"I didn't learn until I was twelve," Hei admitted. He and Xing had splashed around in the lake up by their country house, but even in the summer it was too cold for any actual swimming. "When I joined the Syndicate, they put me through lessons; but since I trained with my sister the instructor would never get in the water with us; I never really got the hang of the proper strokes." He shrugged awkwardly.

"Your sister?"

Hei turned his face away. What in the hell had prompted him to mention her? "She had the same power as me," he said shortly. "Before I was a contractor. Water is a good conductor of electricity."

He fully expected Kirihara to withdraw her legs, maybe even scoot a little further away from him and the water, at the reminder of how dangerous his ability was. However, she didn't move. Instead she asked, "And they just threw you into the pool and told you to swim?"

Hei felt a fresh surge of appreciation for her willingness to not pursue a topic that he was clearly uncomfortable with; she never pressed him for information on his teammates, either. Maybe that was what made it so easy to talk to her.

"Yeah," he said, turning back to her and resting his chin on his folded arms. "The instructor fastened weight belts around our waists and then without warning pushed us off the edge. We sank straight to the bottom. Fifteen feet."

"What did you do?" Kirihara asked, aghast.

A bead of water dripped from the edge of her swim cap and onto her neck; Hei watched it trace a long, languorous path towards her collarbone. If he kept staring at that bead, he could push aside the memories of the crushing pain in his ears and sinuses, the burn in his lungs as his air ran out, the certainty that he was going to die. The panic had nearly overwhelmed him; it was only the sight of Bai, struggling calmly with the release on her weight belt, that had allowed him to focus.

"I undid the catch on her belt," Hei said, "then did mine and followed her to the surface. Getting back to the edge of the pool was easy after that."

"That's awful though," Misaki said softly. The compassion in her eyes startled him. He met her gaze. A droplet of water was poised on the edge of her eyelash. He stared, captivated. Then she reached up and absently brushed it away. Hei blinked and swallowed hard.

"It's all about controlling your adrenaline," he said, collecting himself. "and not letting the panic take over. That's an invaluable skill."

"Still, it must have been hard for you to get back into the water after that."

He shrugged again. "Do you have that photo?"

"What? Oh, right." She picked up her phone and fiddled with it for a moment. Then she turned the screen to his view.

Hei squinted at the image on the screen, but he didn't need to. He recognized that profile right away. "That's our liaison with the Syndicate," he told her, his blood running cold as he remembered the way the man had calmly watched the contractor Shihoko kill herself. "I don't know his name."

There was a light in Misaki's eyes now. "If he's your connection to the higher-ups, that makes him the best lead we've had yet."

Shit. He should have pretended to not know the man. "Don't let him catch you anywhere near that street. You should take down the webcam - no, send someone else to do it. If you -"

"Alright," Misaki cut in irritably. "He's dangerous; I'll be careful."

They lapsed into silence. Hei had nothing more to tell her except for more warnings, which he knew would only irritate her. For her part, he was sure that she was already planning a strategy to catch this guy.

Misaki snapped her phone shut and, turning, tossed it onto one of the lounge chairs behind her. Hei tried not to notice how close the smooth skin of her thigh was to his hand. Why had he thought that meeting her at the pool was in any way a good idea? Why had he had to come up with such a flimsy excuse just to talk to her again?

"Can I ask you something?" she said abruptly.

"Um, sure," he said, desperately hoping that she hadn't caught him staring.

"You said you were practicing freediving techniques, but you completely suck at swimming - what were you really doing?"

"That _is_ what I was doing. I'm trained in advanced scuba and I've free-dived down to one hundred feet. I like _that_ stuff; I just can't swim laps."

"Really?" She pursed her lips. "I've done some scuba, but I've always wanted to learn freediving. It looks difficult though."

"It's not; I can show you some easy breathing exercises to get started." Mentally Hei kicked himself. He should _not_ be volunteering to interact with a police officer more than absolutely necessary. But the idea of spending time with her, talking about something that didn't involve the Syndicate, was too tempting to pass up. And that was a problem.

Misaki smiled. "Maybe once this whole thing with the Syndicate is over, we can work on that."

His heart sank. "I'll have to leave Japan once you move on the Syndicate."

"Well," she said, her smile tightening a bit, "that's just as well. You'd probably only be able to teach me how to lurk at the bottom of swimming pools."

"I wasn't lurking," Hei protested. "You must be completely blind not have seen me - how do you manage to not run into the wall on every lap?"

Misaki mouth dropped open. "At least I don't swim like a pregnant hippopotamus."

Maybe it was the good-natured name-calling, bringing him back to the days of schoolyard taunts and summer games; Hei was never sure. But without thinking, he grabbed her elbow and yanked her forward into the water. She had just enough time to let out a startled gasp before she hit the surface with a splash.

"Hey!" she spluttered, wiping the water from her eyes.

Hei realized with a shock what he'd just done. Before he could apologize however, Misaki swept a wave of water right into his face. He blinked, dripping, as she grinned at him.

"You think you have the advantage over me in a pool?" she taunted, a determined gleam in her eye.

"You -" he began. Then the harsh jangling of a cell phone cut him off. They both turned to look at the lounge chair.

"Oh," Misaki said. "Um, I think I have to go."

"Right." Hei tried not to watch as she pulled herself gracefully over the edge of the pool and padded lightly to her phone. She kept her back to him as she answered.

Feeling suddenly disconcerted, he replaced his goggles over his eyes and began a slow freestyle stroke down the lane. When he reached the weights that he'd left at the other end, he glanced back just in time to see Misaki hurriedly turn away, as if she'd been watching him. She scooped up her towel and left the pool.

Hei closed his eyes and started up his breathing exercises once again.

It was days later when it would occur to him to wonder just when he'd begun thinking of her as _Misaki_ rather than _Chief Kirihara_ in his head; he realized then that he was in much deeper trouble than he'd first thought.


	5. The Botched Job

**AN:** I know, I know – not the update that everyone was hoping for. I just haven't had a good block of time to finish the next _Shifu_ chapter yet. Soon. I think you'll like this chapter though; and you'll _especially_ like the next one…

* * *

The soft thudding of footsteps rapidly approached Hei's hiding place. He sunk deeper into the shadowed doorway, angling his head so that the white of his mask wouldn't reflect whatever nighttime light managed to leak in from the main street twenty yards down the alley. He couldn't afford to give himself away. Not now.

"The lady cop is hot on his tail," Mao said over the radio. "She's not waiting for her backup."

 _Damn it_. How had he known that Misaki would just charge ahead like that?

"He's just passing Point A; drawing even with your location in fifteen seconds."

Hei didn't answer, but rather kept his attention focused on the sounds echoing in the alley. He thought that he could detect a second set of footsteps now, lighter than the first. _Misaki._

Fifteen seconds. Ten.

A sharp scuffing sound, then the steps abruptly became fainter. A second scuffing; the chaser, following.

"Damn," Mao swore, but Hei already knew exactly what had happened. He bolted from his shadowed doorway and, using the ledge of a window as a boost, leapt up to catch the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder just to his right.

"They deviated," the cat was saying. "Heading down the branch alley. Proceed to intercept Point B. I'll do what I can to slow him down."

"On it." Hei hauled himself over the edge of the apartment building's roof and sprinted across, following the path of the side alley. "Yin, where's the rest of Section Four?"

"Circling the block on foot. On a course to intercept from the west."

Damn; this was going to be close. He'd known that there was a chance the target would turn down the branch rather than run straight through, but there hadn't been a suitable observation post before the junction. Not one where he would be in a position to engage, anyway.

"This is a bad idea," Huang's voice cut in. "I don''t know why I let you lunatics talk me into this. If this goes south –"

"You've told us already, Huang," Mao said, sounding out of breath. "At least five times. We know."

And they'd decided to take the risk anyway. If things went south, it would be Hei's fault. This mission - at least, their involvement in it - had been his idea.

"Hei, don't let him get a glimpse of you – not even a goddamn shadow!" Huang growled. "If he gets away and figures out that you were here, we're all dead. End of story."

"I know."

He'd considered not wearing his mask. He didn't know whether the Syndicate's liaison knew what his face looked like; they'd never met face to face. But chances were high that this guy had access to Hei's file and the photos in it.

And in any case, there was still the risk of someone from Section Four spotting him and recognizing his features. It had to be the mask.

He was nearly at the edge of the building's roof; he was pretty sure that the adjacent building was flush against it, though he couldn't see anything in the nighttime glow of the city. Shit, he hated blind jumps. But backtracking to find an alternate route would take too much time.

Two seconds from the edge Yin said, "Fifteen-foot drop. Clear below."

Hei vaulted the lip of the roof and tucked up both knees as he dropped. He landed hard on the balls of his feet on the next roof, rolled with the momentum, and sprang up. As he continued his sprint, he caught sight of a small blue specter peeking out of a rain puddle. It disappeared as he passed.

 _Thank you, Yin_.

"Cut to the left," the doll told him.

He veered left, trusting her to guide him. A gap up ahead signaled a narrow street or alley below between his building and its neighbor. His pace increased, preparing for the jump. He had to get ahead of the target, get back to the ground where he could be on hand if –

"Stop."

Hei skidded to a halt at the edge; a pigeon flew up from the street below with a feathery burst.

"Stop!"

 _This_ voice rang out loud and clear from the street, easily reaching Hei's position five stories up.

"Police – freeze!"

He flattened himself onto the concrete and crept forward to peer over the edge. A man in a leather jacket and baseball cap stood frozen in the center of the empty street.

Misaki stood in a perfect shooter's stance at the junction of alley and street just behind the man, her gun trained on his back.

"Hands on your head," she ordered. "Slowly!"

Slowly, the man's empty hands began to rise.

Hei's heart pounded in his chest. This guy wasn't a contractor, but he was still incredibly dangerous. Huang was right. Why had Hei agreed to this mission?

 _Because she would have done it with or without you_ , he reminded himself. At least this way, he and his team were here if she got into trouble.

He didn't think he could climb down to the street without the Syndicate's man hearing him. Which wouldn't be a problem if the man didn't turn around at the sound and recognize him; and the risk of that was too high. Instead, Hei slowly and silently drew one of his knives and clipped his wired carabiner to the hilt.

"Turn around," Misaki said levelly.

In his ear, Yin was relaying the situation to Huang and Mao. Hei barely heard, his entire being focused on the two figures below him.

"I said, turn around!"

The man didn't move. Hei tensed, prepared to send his knife straight into the man's heart.

"Hei, don't do anything stupid," Huang growled. "He's useless to the cops if he's dead; and if you miss, _we're_ dead!"

 _I won't miss_ , Hei thought darkly.

Misaki had told him the same thing though, hadn't she. _It's his information I need, not him_ , she'd said. _You can show up if you want, but only if it's to help herd him towards us. If you kill him, the deal is off_.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Hei unclipped his carabiner and sheathed his knife. He told himself that it was the threat of losing their free passage out of the country that motivated him, not fear of disappointing her.

He could tell himself that all he wanted; even he couldn't make himself believe it.

He edged along the roof until he was positioned nearly even with Misaki. There were a series of iron-railed balconies here that he could use to drop down to the street if she needed him.

Misaki took a defensive step backwards, clearly prepared for a false move. She angled her gun for a debilitating, rather than killing, shot.

The man took a careful step to the left, pivoting slowly according to her instructions. Misaki didn't relax her guard one iota, Hei noticed with a flash of approval.

"Keep your –"

The man moved. Continuing his pivot he ran straight at Misaki. She fired at his shoulder but he'd anticipated and dodged before she'd even pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed painfully in the tight street, followed closely by a second. Then he closed with her.

Hei had enough time to register the silver flash of a knife before he was dropping over the edge of the roof.

Another shot went off, nearly deafening him. He landed on the street just in time to see the man disappear around the corner.

Yin's voice was in his ear, tracking the man's movements for Hei to follow in pursuit, but he didn't hear it. His entire world had shrunk to include nothing but Misaki's crumpled form lying against the concrete wall. Crimson blood was trickling down her cheek.

He dropped to one knee and gripped her shoulder. "Misaki!"

"Shit," she groaned, and Hei let go of the breath he'd been holding. He helped her into a seated position.

"Where is he – which way?" she said, staring slightly dazedly down the street.

"Don't move," Hei ordered. He brushed a stray lock of hair back to reveal a nasty scrape on her temple where she must have hit the wall. It was bleeding, but not too badly. He tilted her chin back to check her neck.

She brushed his hand away. "I'm fine!"

"His knife –"

"It glanced off my gun. My shot grazed his arm, but I don't think it's going to slow him down much." She reached behind her to pull her cell phone from her pocket. The phone clattered onto the pavement as she abruptly cringed, pressing a hand to her head. Her fingers came away red with blood.

"You need to go to the hospital – you might have a concussion."

"I'm fine," she said, finally turning to look at him. "I just ––" She scowled. "I can't talk to you with that damn mask on. You need to get out of here."

"You're hurt –"

"My team is on their way; they must have heard the shots. You find out where that guy is going to ground!"

Something very much like a knife stabbed into Hei's heart at her words. She did have a team, and he wasn't part of it. Someone else would take care of her.

"Hei, damn it, get your ass out of there!"

Hei wasn't sure how long Huang had been trying to get his attention; from the tone of his voice, it hadn't been a short time.

"Section Four is thirty seconds from your position," Yin told him. "Two officers."

Hei stood reluctantly. He offered his gloved hand to Misaki, a slight shiver running across his skin beneath the cloth as she took it and stood up beside him. With no small amount of relief he saw that she was at least steady on her feet.

"Yin, don't worry about Section Four," he said into his mic. "Where is the target?"

"I have a trace on him. Still heading north."

"Your team is almost here," Hei told Misaki, letting his voice go cold and trying to ignore the blood drying on her face.

She nodded, then pressed her hand to her head once again. "Get the hell out of here before they see you."

Wordlessly, Hei turned to go – and froze when she caught his arm. He glanced over his shoulder to find her gazing at him, expression unreadable.

"We need to talk, though," she said. "Meet me at my place as soon as you're free tonight. If I'm not there just let yourself in."

Hei nodded once, unsure of what to say. But the footsteps pounding up the street told him he was out of time anyway. Without a backwards glance – though it pained him to not triple-check that she was alright – he sprinted back towards the alley in which the target had disappeared.

~~~~o~~~~

"You're _absolutely sure_ he never made you?" Huang asked, pacing back and forth in front of the slide as his third cigarette burned to ash between his lips.

"Sit down, Huang, you're making me dizzy," Mao said from his place on the bench next to Hei. "We told you - he couldn't have recognized me, and he never even saw Hei. There's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about, my ass! I _told_ you idiots this was a stupid idea!"

"You know you didn't actually have to be there, Huang."

"Yeah, well, someone has to keep you idiots in line. And you think the Syndicate'd believe that you or Hei was acting on your own? Well, they'd probably believe Hei would, with all the dumbass stunts he's pulled." Huang jerked a thumb in Hei's direction. "But like hell they'd let _me_ off the hook!"

Hei stared out into the dark park, unable to focus on the conversation. He couldn't get the image of Misaki, lying unmoving in the street, out of his mind.

"And that damn Kirihara!" Huang continued. "What the hell was she thinking, taking off on her own like that, without her goddamn backup! She practically blew the whole operation!"

"It wasn't the smartest choice on her part," the cat said mildly, resting his chin on his paws. "Then again, if she'd waited, he definitely would have gotten away without her even having the chance to wing him. Who knows, it might be enough for the cops to find him on their own."

"They won't."

Both Huang and Mao turned to Hei in surprise.

"Yin's trace was broken. Wherever he is, it's more protected than any of _our_ safe houses," Hei continued. "The police won't find him unless the Syndicate wants him found."

Misaki was going to be furious about that. He wasn't looking forward to telling her; but at the same time, he was itching for this debrief to end so that he _could_ go tell her. Had her team convinced her to go get checked out at the hospital? A potential concussion wasn't something to take lightly; but she was so stubborn when it came to her cases…

Huang grunted. "And guaranteed they _don't_. Not alive, anyway."

"And that kills our chance to find out exactly what their plans are for us," Mao said. "It'll be best if Yin can find him again. Then Hei can tip off the lady cop and she'll have a second shot at him."

Huang grunted again. "She's working on it. In the meantime, someone here's got a date. Any idea what she wants to talk to you about?"

 _Date?_ Hei's cheeks flushed in the darkness. It wasn't a _date_. She just wanted to talk. He resisted the un-contractor-like urge to point that out. "No," he said simply.

"Well, you watch yourself around her. You were sounding awfully chummy on the comm - since when do you care so much if a cop gets hurt on the job?"

Hei kept his voice neutral. "We're relying on her investigation to protect us from whatever the Syndicate is planning. She's an asset."

"An asset, huh? Since when do you call her by her first name?"

Hei blinked. Had he done that? Shit, he did need to watch himself; he could only hope that Misaki - damn, _Kirihara_ \- hadn't noticed.

"It makes her more comfortable with trusting me," he lied.

"Just don't get too comfortable. Foolin' around _ain't_ part of your mission brief!"

Mao snorted. "He is still a contractor, Huang. Surely you couldn't forget that."

"Who the hell knows how your freak brains work. I still remember our first job - world's most cold-hearted contractor and he's got that damn girl wrapped around his little finger." Huang's mouth twisted up in distaste. Hei wasn't offended; he felt exactly the same way about it.

Mao gave a feline shrug. "Yes, but the honey trap is the last ploy Hei'd want to use with someone like Kirihara - she'd see through it an instant. Especially with her knowing who he is."

 _Especially with who I am,_ Hei thought to himself as he trudged back to his apartment to change into civilian clothes. Mao was right. He was a contractor.

So what if his heart beat faster every time he was close to her? Contractors _did_ have emotions - they just didn't feel them like humans did, and acted on rational thought instead. Coming to her for help had been entirely rational and self-serving. Even Huang had agreed on that point.

Still, he couldn't ignore the anxiety that rushed through his veins when he reached her apartment building and saw that her windows were dark. Probably she'd merely been held up by routine exams at the hospital; she had been moving fine when he'd left her earlier. He would have noticed something if there'd been a more serious injury.

Once upstairs, he knocked on the door. It was always possible that she _was_ home and had gone to bed, forgetting their appointment.

In any case, she had warned him to knock first the next time.

After several long, anxious moments, there was still no answer. Well, she _had_ told him to let himself in. Making quick work of the lock, he opened the door.

He turned on the lights as he entered, stalking through the entire apartment and checking behind every door, under every lamp. He did trust her not to do anything so underhanded as plant bugs in order to trap him; but years of training couldn't be ignored. Nor could he ignore the possibility that someone else in the police might have caught on to their agreement and wanted to collect evidence on _her_.

Damn it, he should have thought of that possibility earlier, and taught her how to sweep the apartment regularly. He made a mental note to mention it to her.

The end of his sweep, fortunately, yielded nothing suspicious.

It also left him in Misaki's bedroom.

He'd been in here once before: the night that he'd come to her for help with the Syndicate. That night he'd also swept the apartment, but without turning on any lights. He'd merely wanted to make sure that they would be alone without alerting her to his presence. After confirming that the place was indeed empty, he'd sat on the living room sofa alone, in the dark, to wait.

He gazed around the room; it was nearly as tidy as he would have expected. Her bed was made, the pale blue duvet smooth and neat and topped with crisp white pillows. The bedside table held the only lamp in the room. It also held a small bottle of hand lotion, a little porcelain dish holding half a dozen earrings, and an eyeglass case. Hei could picture her in his mind, carefully removing the little jewelry that she wore and tucking away her glasses before climbing into bed for the night.

Her hair would probably be down, too. He wondered what it would look like, draped over her shoulders…

He gave himself a mental shake. As he reached for the lamp to turn it off again, his gaze fell on the clothes-drying rack on the other side of the bed that he'd noted and dismissed during his initial sweep. Now, he realized that all the clothing drying on it were an assortment of pastel-colored bras and panties.

He quickly glanced away, heat rising in cheeks.

 _Idiot. It's not like you never seen women's underwear before._

The memory of Misaki sitting on the edge of the pool, her pale, bare thigh inches from his fingertips, leapt into his mind. He pushed it away and turned out the lamp, plunging the room into a gratifying darkness.

He returned to the living room to sit on the sofa and wait for her to come home. As he passed the kitchen, his stomach gave a hungry growl. He ignored it. Misaki had invited him in to talk about their botched op, not to raid her kitchen.

Maybe once she got home, he could fix something for them both.

 _Right. And then we can sit together on the sofa and watch the evening news, and tell each other about our day at work_ , he scoffed to himself.

Despite his disdain for the idea, the thought let in a trickle of melancholy, one that he'd felt occasionally over his years as a contractor. It would sneak in as he watched a happy couple stroll through a park where he was waiting for a rendezvous, holding hands; or as he stalked down a shadowed street and passed a warmly lit home, the family inside eating and talking together.

He usually had no problem ignoring the feeling, and it would pass as quickly as it had come. Lately, though, it had been showing up more and more often, at the most unexpected times.

Mostly when he was meeting with Misaki.

Why wasn't she home yet? A simple exam shouldn't take this long, should it?

Too distracted to sit, Hei wandered over to the bookcase beside the sofa and examined the mix of books and knickknacks it held. A dying spider plant was perched at the very top. He wondered if she was forgetting to water it because she'd put it up there, or if she'd put it up there to distance herself from her failure to keep it alive. He was willing to bet on the latter.

Her books seemed to be mostly textbooks or other things that would have been assigned through school, though there were a handful of novels. Hei ran his finger along the titles. Maybe someday, if he ever managed to escape from the Syndicate, he'd have time to sit and read just for fun, rather than as a cover for covert observation. The idea of owning even half as many books was daunting, though. He'd never possessed more items than would fit inside a single duffel bag; mostly clothing and gear. That telescope had been an extravagance, one that hadn't lasted more than a month.

He'd learned his lesson.

Still, he couldn't stop a fresh resurgence of melancholy as he gazed around Misaki's spare yet warm home. This sort of life wasn't meant for someone like him. _She_ wasn't meant for someone like him.

That thought shouldn't hurt even half as much as it did.

He picked up a framed photo from the middle shelf. It featured a young girl with long chestnut hair and glasses hugging a woman on a park bench. The woman wore a floral scarf around her head and was smiling warmly at the girl. Her skin looked too pale to be healthy; but perhaps that was just the lighting. Draped over her shoulders was a knitted blue shawl; the same one that currently rested on the back of Misaki's sofa.

Hei was still staring intently at the photo, a storm of unnamed emotions welling up within him, when the lock of the door turned. He almost didn't hear the quiet click, he was so engrossed in the happiness radiating from the image.

He nearly dropped the photo in his hurry to set it back in its place. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned just in time to see the door open and Misaki walk in.

Her purse and suit jacket were hanging from one hand; she dropped them on top of the shoe cupboard in the entry and eased out of her shoes, replacing them with cozy-looking house slippers.

"Hi. I hope you haven't been waiting long," she said with a tired sigh as she walked into the living room.

Hei's gaze was fixed on the white square taped to her left temple. "How's your head?"

"What?" She touched the bandage gingerly. "Oh. Fine. Just a minor abrasion." When Hei opened his mouth to ask another question she smiled faintly and added, "No concussion."

"Oh. That's good."

"My feet are killing me though: it's been a while since I've had to run that hard." She sank down onto the sofa with another sigh, stretching her long legs out in front of her. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

Hei hesitated for a moment; then he edged away from the bookcase and sat carefully on the other end of the sofa.

"So, where do we stand?" she asked. "Kouno was able to follow a blood trail for ten blocks, but then it ended abruptly, like he'd gotten into a car or something. I'm hoping that was your team, grabbing him?"

When she slouched back on the cushions like that, there was a slight gap between the second and third buttons on her blouse; a bit of lacy pink was just visible through it.

Hei fixed his gaze on the coffee table. "We can't grab him yet, not without compromising ourselves."

"But you know where he is?"

He hated having to disappoint the hopeful note in her voice. "He had a car parked. Yin put a thread on him, but it was broken just when he reached Shinjuku station. She hasn't picked him up again yet."

Hei didn't have to look at Misaki to know that her brow was furrowed in thought. "A thread? What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure what it is, exactly. Dolls can place some sort of tracker on a subject that lets them locate a person without having to send out specters to search." He'd asked Yin to explain how it worked once; she hadn't been able to answer. He had a feeling that she understood it intuitively and simply didn't know the words to express it.

"I don't think Astronomics' dolls can do that," Misaki said.

"They can. They're just not programmed to."

"What? How do _you_ know that, when I don't?" she asked, clearly irritated.

" _I_ don't - the Syndicate does."

"That damn mole," she muttered. "Can Yin find him again?"

"She's looking," Hei said, a little testily. "It's not easy scanning the entire city for one person out of nine million."

Misaki's voice softened. "Right. I'm sorry." She sighed. "I wish I could bring Astronomics' network into this; but without knowing who to trust, I don't dare. _Something_ tipped this guy off at the very last minute; I was waiting for the rest of the team to get into position when it looked like he got a text. Then he just suddenly made a run for it."

"So you just had to run after him, without waiting for your backup." Mao may have thought that she'd made the practical choice, but Hei had to agree with Huang. She could've gotten hurt - hell, she _had_ gotten hurt.

"I knew you were there."

The matter-of-fact way in which she said those words sent a dagger into his heart. "It's in our interest to help you arrest him," Hei said flatly.

When Misaki didn't answer right away, he risked a glance up - and found her gazing at him with a shrewd expression. Then she smiled.

"We did have a stroke of luck though - he'd almost outpaced me when a pigeon flew up right in his face. I wouldn't have caught him otherwise. Even if I didn't manage to _actually_ catch him." The bitterness in her tone was unmistakable, though it hadn't been her fault at all that the guy had escaped.

"You did say you wanted us to run interference," Hei told her. "We would've been more effective if we didn't have to worry about hiding our involvement." _Or about not killing him_. "Sorry."

Misaki snorted. "Oh come on, you're not taking credit for the pigeon, are you?" When Hei didn't answer, she looked at him askance. "Really. A pigeon. I know you're good, but you're not _that_ good."

"Well, it was Mao, not me."

"Your secondary? He can control birds?"

Hei didn't know why he found her incredulity so endearing; but at the very least, it was taking her mind off of her perceived failure. "No. He _was_ the bird."

"He - what? A _bird_?" She scrunched up her nose. "You're making fun of me."

"I'm not." Hei did his best to keep his voice cold and detached, but the bemused look on her face was making it nearly impossible.

"You mean, some kind of body-swapping ability? I've never heard of that…"

Hei shrugged. "There's probably a lot of contractor powers you've never heard of. Anyway, it's more like hijacking. He doesn't switch places with the bird."

Misaki laughed abruptly, and Hei had to force his mouth into a flat line. "That would be a little ridiculous, a bird brain in a human body. What happens to _his_ body if he's possessing an animal?"

"I think it just stayed empty. I don't know."

"You don't know? You work with him, right?"

"He lost his body in some sort of accident. I don't know the details. He's a cat now."

"He's…"

"A cat. Yeah."

Misaki fell silent for several long moments, eying him suspiciously. Then her brow relaxed and she shook her head. "That's sad. It must be hard for him."

"He's a contractor; he doesn't mind, as long as he gets a roof over his head and three meals a day. He doesn't even have a price any longer."

"No price…" Misaki mused; then her expression turned shrewd again. "I still haven't heard what your price is."

Hei's burgeoning lightheartedness abruptly sank. "You're not going to."

"Hei, you know I trust you, and I'm pretty sure you trust me. Why won't -"

"It isn't relevant," he said flatly, ignoring the tingling down his spine at her use of his name.

In truth he had no idea whether he had a price or not; he'd stopped wondering about it long ago. If he truly didn't have one, then he did not want to think through the ramifications. He certainly didn't want _Misaki_ thinking through the ramifications. He had a star. He had a power. He was a contractor, end of story.

He just didn't usually need to remind himself of that quite so often.

"Alright," she said, though Hei could tell that she wasn't at all satisfied. "But will you at least reconsider letting me meet the rest of your team?"

"No."

"We would be so much more effective if we could all work together! I had no idea that there was a _pigeon_ \- or cat, or whatever - that I could use in planning the operation. If -"

"No," Hei repeated, more emphatically. "There's still a mole in your department, remember? It's too risky."

Misaki let out a huff of air. "You're right. Damn it. So what's our next move? I have my team on it, even though they don't have a whole lot to go by. That coded message that your handler put together was good enough to get him to the fake rendezvous; I'm guessing that won't work a second time?" Her eyes widened. "None of your team are in danger because of this, are they? That intel supposedly came from you…"

"Nothing points to us." Hei reassured her quickly. "The higher-ups will have to assume that the imaginary person who passed it to me was either wrong or lying. It's still too much of a risk to use the same channel again, though."

"That's a relief. Is there going to be any fallout from this on the Syndicate's side?"

"I don't know. It depends on how spooked this guy is. How much he knows about how much _you_ know."

"Well, he knows I saw his face. I hate to say it, but he's probably out of the country by now."

She sounded so defeated; she even managed to slouch back further into the cushions, the gap between her shirt buttons opening up a bit further.

"It's possible," Hei agreed. "It's also possible that nothing will change. Once Yin finds him, we can reevaluate our strategy."

"That's not much better. One out of nine million people?"

"The best case scenario would be if the higher-ups decide he's too risky to hold onto now."

Misaki frowned. "How is that the best?"

"I'll get orders to kill him."

She sat bolt upright. "That's the _best_ case scenario? You _killing_ him?"

"I won't kill him," Hei said, staring at the bandage on her temple and wishing that he had sent his knife straight through that man's heart when he'd had the chance. "It won't be easy, but we can find a way for the hit to get interrupted by you - then you can arrest him and no one will know me or my team were involved."

Her eyes narrowed - and her stomach abruptly gave a loud growl.

"Sorry," she said, her cheeks flushing. "I didn't have time to grab anything to eat after lunch."

To Hei's complete horror, his stomach chose that exact moment to grumble aloud as well.

Misaki burst out laughing, sending the threat of another smile to Hei's cheeks. "You too, huh? Well, it's too late to order anything…I wonder if I have anything in the fridge."

"You don't have to -" Hei began, but she was already halfway to the kitchen.

"I owe you for those lunches you brought me from your restaurant," she said, waving her hand, and Hei knew that there was no arguing.

He also knew that he shouldn't follow her. That he should listen to Huang's advice for once and leave before he got in over his head.

And he knew that it was too late.

16


	6. The Argument

Huang was right, Hei thought to himself as he followed Misaki into the kitchen. Fooling around wasn't part of the job - even if _fooling around_ in this instance was simply an innocent meal together.

He needed to leave. Make an excuse, and - hell, he didn't even _need_ an excuse. He was the Black Reaper; disappearing without a word was what he _did_.

"I thought I at least had some leftover takeout, but it looks like all that's here is rice," Misaki said. She was bent over at the waist, staring into the open refrigerator. "I'm all out of bentos, too."

Hei swallowed hard; after a long, long moment of trying _not_ to stare at her perfect ass, he managed to shift his gaze to the coffee pot on the counter. "Do you have any meat?" he asked, inwardly cursing himself. What was that about just disappearing?

"Hm, I don't know. Maybe in the freezer." She straightened up; as she reached to open the freezer, the corner of her shirt came untucked from her waistband. A flash of skin was just visible.

"Do you mind if I take a look?" Hei asked hurriedly.

Misaki glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised quizzically. Then she shrugged and took a step back.

Hei took her place with a silent breath of relief at no longer having to stand behind her and watch his willpower drain away.

With Misaki mercifully out of his line of sight, he inspected the contents of the fridge. As she'd said, there were two cardboard containers of white rice from - he recognized with a twinge of surprise - the restaurant he'd been working at last month. Aside from that, a handful of soy sauce packets, and three bottles of water, the fridge was completely empty.

"Do you never cook?" he couldn't stop himself from saying. Refrigerators didn't get this empty by merely forgetting to pick up groceries one week.

"I don't have time," she huffed.

Hei set the two rice cartons on the counter and opened the freezer. Unlike the fridge, the freezer was nearly full; but as he rifled through it, he found that all the bags were the same: frozen french fries. "I'm a wanted assassin constantly on the move, and even my kitchen is better stocked than this," he muttered.

" _You_ cook?"

He paused, fries in hand. Until she'd said those words, the fries had sounded like a perfect late-night snack. Instead, he put the bag back and continued his search until he found, crammed in the back, a freezer-burned package of beef.

"Yes," he said levelly. "When I can. Do you have a frying pan?"

"When did I buy that?" Misaki said, half to herself, when Hei dropped the package in the side of the sink that wasn't crammed full of dirty dishes to thaw under running water. He wondered how she could accumulate so many unwashed bowls if she never used her kitchen. It wasn't exactly spacious, but it was still more room than he'd ever had. If this were _his_ kitchen, he'd be working in here every day. Misaki, on the other hand, didn't even own a rice cooker.

Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, he set up the pan. Misaki managed to scrounge up some spices and near-expired canned bean sprouts in her barren pantry. Combined with the rice and beef, it would make a halfway-decent stir fry.

Hei sliced the beef in silence. Misaki had a large collection of knives, but they were all wretchedly dull; she probably used them to open packaging, he realized with a horrified pang, and never sharpened them. He could show her -

 _Stop_ , he mentally upbraided himself. _It's none of your concern if she wants to ruin her knives._

It was just that there was something so _natural_ about standing in Misaki's kitchen, cooking a meal for her as she leaned against the counter and watched; he was afraid that if he said a single word, this spell of normalcy would be broken.

There was also her proximity to deal with. If he shifted just a few inches to his right, their hips would be touching. The thought alone was enough to send his blood racing through his veins.

How could she stand to be so close to him - how was she not terrified of having a contractor in her kitchen with a knife in his hand?

 _It's_ because _you're a contractor_ , he reminded himself. Contractors were cold and logical: they didn't kill indiscriminately, and they certainly didn't take advantage of being alone with a gorgeous woman. Not unless it was part of a larger goal.

And Misaki knew what his goal was. Find out what the Syndicate was doing, and stop them. There was no need for seduction on this job.

It made no difference that his heart skipped a beat every time she so much as glanced at him. He was still a contractor.

Beside him, Misaki shifted slightly and folded her arms. Hei nearly jumped out of skin.

"Could you grab another soy sauce packet?" he asked quickly. When Misaki didn't answer, he glanced over; she was gazing at his forearms as he finished slicing, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Then she blinked and looked up.

"Sorry - what?"

"Soy sauce?"

"Oh. Right."

She disappeared from his side, leaving Hei with a confusing mixture of relief and loss. There was a brief draft of cold air behind him as she opened and closed the fridge, and then she was back, little white packet in her hand.

Despite his best efforts, their fingers brushed as he took the sauce from her. An electric tingle that had nothing to do with his power shot straight up his arm and down his spine. He didn't trust himself to say even a simple thanks, so he said nothing.

Hei added the beef strips to the pan to sear them, adding in the sauce, sprouts, and spices once the meat began to brown. Misaki stood by, observing in a companionable silence.

The last time that Hei had cooked for anyone like this had been during Heaven's War, when his squad had been quartered in an abandoned restaurant for a week. Most of them hadn't even commented on his efforts. Bai had thanked him dutifully. Amber had said that she liked it; she'd probably been lying.

"How do you know how to do that?" Misaki asked abruptly. She leaned her elbows on the countertop, watching as he stirred the contents of the pan. That gap between the buttons of her blouse had opened up again.

"Do…what?"

"That. Just throw things together without a recipe, and have it come out smelling so good."

"Practice, I guess." Hei raised the spoon to his mouth to taste the stir-fry; not too bad. A little more chili powder. "It's not hard."

He looked back over at Misaki; her eyes, dark and heavy, were locked onto the spoon at his lips. Cooking wasn't hard, but something _else_ was rapidly becoming so.

Hastily he turned his back to her, pretending to scan the small kitchen. "Where are your bowls?"

"Um. They're all in the sink. Dirty. We'll have to eat straight from the pan. If you don't mind, that is."

Her voice was uncharacteristically anxious. Hei risked a look over his shoulder; she was standing with her arms folded, facing slightly away, a pink tinge to her cheeks. Two small points puckered the otherwise smooth material of her blouse. What he wouldn't give to cross the distance between them, bury his hands in the soft silk of her hair -

"No," he said, struggling to keep the strain out of his voice. "I don't mind." He strode over to the dish-cluttered sink and held his hands under a stream of ice cold water on the pretense of washing them before eating. It helped. A little.

Misaki rummaged up two sets of disposable chopsticks from a drawer full of takeout menus and dug into the stir-fry with one pair. Hei joined her. Standing this close together, the pleasant cucumber-y fragrance of the soap that she used mixed intriguingly with the salt of the stir-fry.

She leaned over the stove, reaching for a strip of beef that was on Hei's side of the pan. Was she trying to hide the suggestion that she might be just a little turned on, or was she hoping to innocently open up that gap in her blouse even further? Was she even aware of _either_?

Maybe she was just cold.

He was going to drive himself crazy wondering. He already drove himself crazy every night before falling asleep - picturing her in her swimsuit at the pool, imagining a very different way that morning could have gone…

"Wow, this is good. I wish I had half your talent in the kitchen."

He tried to ignore the flush of warmth at her praise. "How do you manage to feed yourself, if you don't cook?"

She shot him an endearingly sour look. "Takeout and frozen meals, of course. There's nothing wrong with that."

"By meals you mean fries?" That was so unhealthy. The fundamentals were simple enough; he could teach her -

 _Don't be stupid_. They didn't have that sort of relationship. They didn't have _any_ sort of relationship.

"As long as I burn off any extra calories, it doesn't matter where they come from," she argued.

"If you say so."

"I do. Do I look overweight to you?" She swallowed a huge bite of rice, and Hei turned his focus to the pan. That definitely was _not_ an invitation to let his gaze linger on her slim form, and he definitely was not going to accept it.

No matter how much he wanted to.

Instead he said, "It's not about weight, it's about fitness."

"I've seen _you_ eat - you're not exactly the poster boy of a healthy diet!"

"You've seen me eat greasy takeout as part of a cover. If I ate like that all day, every day, I'd never have the muscle or stamina I need each night."

"Stamina?"

He'd just imagined that hitch in her breath, he decided, wishing that he could take back those words.

"Chasing down my targets," he added quickly. "So I can kill them before they kill me."

To his relief, she blanched at that, lowering her gaze to the pan once more. They both continued their meal in silence.

Why, why, why hadn't he left when he'd had the chance? Even arguing with her felt…comfortable, somehow. Neither of them could afford _comfortable_. Every moment he spent with her just turned the knife in his heart a tiny bit more, reminding him off all the things that he could never have.

That he could never have _her_.

"Hei, can I ask you something?"

He carefully _didn't_ freeze at the sound of his name, but rather finished chewing and swallowed hard.

"What?"

"Well, it's not really a question, I guess. I just wanted to say thank you."

He shrugged uncomfortably, refusing to look up from the meal. "It only took five minutes; I was hungry too."

"Not the food." Why was _she_ the one who sounded awkward? "I mean tonight. Thanks for worrying about me."

Hei desperately hoped that his face was not as red as it felt. "I wasn't worried about you. I need your help to stop the Syndicate's plans, that's all."

"That's why you stayed to make sure I wasn't hurt, instead of running after the target? You might have been able to catch him, if you hadn't waited."

He could feel her gaze on him. She _had_ caught his use of her name, hadn't she. Damn. "I couldn't risk him finding out I was there. Yin had a thread on him; the prudent course of action was ensuring that my team was safe until we could make another attempt."

His cold statement of facts was met with silence. Hei scraped up the last bite of rice before finally looking up - and immediately found himself trapped in her warm brown eyes.

"I'm part of your team?" she asked quietly.

"No," he lied. "You're a means to an end."

Those gorgeous eyes narrowed; then she set her chopsticks down with a _clack_. "You're a goddamn liar."

Hei blinked away the sting of the accusation. "I'm a contractor. What did you expect?"

"Actually? _Honesty!_ I've worked with a few contractors by now, and do you know what I've noticed? They only lie when they have a specific reason to. Otherwise they tend to be pretty honest, especially when it comes to personal things. They tell the truth about their feelings, however superficial, because they just don't care what I think about them."

She took a step forward and, to Hei's complete and utter shock, poked the center of his chest with her finger. "You lie, because _you_ care! I just can't figure out why - except that you don't want me to know it."

It was all Hei could do to stand his ground under that fierce stare. Of _course_ he didn't want her to know that her opinion - and she herself - were important to him! What good could possibly come of that?

"Why should you care what I lie about?" he snapped back. "I haven't lied about the job; that's all that matters."

"Because I don't tolerate lies from my team!"

"Then it's a good thing I'm _not_ on your team."

"Would you want to be?"

 _That_ brought him up short. It was all he could do to not gape openly at her. After several long, stupefied moments, he managed to say, "….what?"

Misaki folded her arms, a slight pink blush rising in her cheeks. "I've been thinking for a while now; it might be useful to have a contractor working with us."

"Are you completely insane?!"

Misaki's mouth dropped open. Shit, he hadn't meant it - no, damn it, he _did_ mean it exactly like that!

"That's the most idiotic idea I've ever heard!" he continued, dropping his chopsticks into the empty pan. "A _contractor_?"

"Yes, a contractor! They could bring a different perspective -"

"Perspective? They have no loyalties; they'd betray you in an instant!"

"You're one to talk about loyalty - you've worked for the same organization for a decade."

"And you have no idea the shit I've pulled, the lies I've told, just to keep them happy with me. I have my own reasons for staying with the Syndicate, that have nothing to do with _loyalty_." It was like a dirty word in his mouth. "Conractors are all liars - you can't trust them!"

"So are you, and I trust _you_!"

"And you _shouldn't_!" He was angry now, angry in a way that he hadn't felt since he'd first learned of Amber's betrayal. How could Misaki not see what a terrible, potentially deadly idea this was?

"I shouldn't? What the hell are we doing here, then?"

Hei took a step forward, invading her personal space. Misaki's affronted expression didn't change, but she reflexively backed up a pace.

" _I'm_ betraying the organization I'm supposedly so loyal to in order to protect myself. I don't know what the hell _you're_ doing - aside from coming up with naive fantasies about hiring contractors."

"Just what is so naive about it?"

"Contractors are dangerous -"

"You think I don't know that?" Misaki snapped. "I've spend my whole career around contractors -"

"And you haven't learned a damn thing, apparently. I've spent my whole _life_ around them. They're dangerous, and working with them any more than absolutely necessary is a mistake that you'll only hope you live to regret."

"You and your goddamn lies again. I wasn't talking about hiring just any contractor - I was talking about _you_!"

This whole thing was his fault, wasn't it? He'd let himself be too personable, too human, in order to make her comfortable. And now she was too comfortable;now there was a spark of hope in his breast that he didn't at all deserve to have.

"And _I'm_ dangerous," he growled, pushing forward until Misaki's back hit the refrigerator. They were so close that his chest brushed against the tips of her breasts; he could feel the rise and fall of each breath she took. She stared up at him, eyes wide and invitingly dark.

Then her eyes narrowed. "Liar."

Hei slammed his palm into the fridge right beside her cheek, sending a burst of wild electricity straight through its circuitry and into the wall behind it. There was an audible crackle of power - then the light above them exploded in a shower of glass into its opaque cover and the entire apartment was plunged into darkness.

For a moment, neither of them moved nor spoke. Hei hardly even dared to breathe.

Then Misaki punched the side of his ribs. "God damn it, that was my last light bulb!" she snapped.

And at that, the last drop of Hei's willpower vanished.

He leaned in and kissed her.


	7. The Hookup

**AN:** The rating's gone up for this one, folks! Read at your own discretion ;)

* * *

Misaki froze at his touch.

For one brief, horrible moment Hei was afraid that he'd misread her completely and had just screwed up in the worst possible way; then her mouth opened beneath his and she was kissing him back.

Until that moment, Hei had had no idea just how badly he'd needed this: the touch of another person, one who knew exactly what he was and wanted him anyway.

Hardly daring to believe this was happening, he cupped her face, running his thumbs along her cheekbones beneath the frames of her glasses as he sucked gently at her lower lip.

Misaki responded by curling her arms around his waist. Her fingers dug into his shirt as she pulled his body flush against hers.

She was pinned between him and the refrigerator. Not even a sliver of light was coming in from the living room; he must have tripped more than a single circuit with that impulsive burst of power. The knowledge that she was effectively trapped and at his mercy in the darkness sent a rush of blood straight to his groin and his erection hardened even further.

Part of him was ashamed at that, but it was drowned out by the feel of her breasts pressing into his chest with each gasping breath that she took.

His tongue darted past her lips to stroke hers; the saltiness from their meal lingered there still, and he was consumed with a sudden desire to know the taste of her skin, of the warmth between her legs.

Misaki groaned beneath his mouth, the sound sending vibrations through his entire being. She let go of his waist, slipping her hands between their bodies. A trill of fear kindled in his heart; he'd overstepped, she was frightened, she wanted him away from her.

But instead of pushing, her fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt.

Relieved beyond all measure, Hei turned his head and trailed kisses along the soft skin of her cheek to her jaw. The tip of his tongue tasted each inch that his lips caressed; Misaki was practically ripping his shirt from his chest now.

He let go of her long enough to help her push the garment from his arms, then slid his hands down her slim ribcage to frame her waist.

The vivid memory of a single water droplet gliding along her throat to her collarbone was never far from his mind, and his mouth followed that remembered path now, teeth nipping lightly at her throat.

Misaki shuddered beneath him and pressed her hips into his. His cock strained against his fly, and she ground forward again, her hands splayed against his back.

Aside from Amber, Hei had never slept with anyone simply because he'd _wanted_ to. It was always for a job, for a cover; under an alias and a false personality with an ulterior motive. And it hadn't always been someone he felt even the slightest attraction to. Even with Amber - however much he'd thought that he'd cared for her, she'd been using him as much as he'd been using her.

Hei had no false notions that this, now, represented anything other than a mutual physical need; but giving in to that need for the first time, and having it genuinely reciprocated, was exhilarating. And the tiniest bit frightening.

He needed Misaki to know that this meant something to him, that it wasn't just about his own gratification. But he didn't trust his voice; didn't even know what words to say.

Her well-starched blouse collar scratched against his cheek. Slowly, one at a time, Hei undid the straight row of buttons. Ignoring the trembling in his fingers as he did so, he kissed each new patch of skin as it was exposed. Misaki moaned and reached one hand up to tangle in his hair. The slide of her fingertips along his scalp sent a shiver down his spine.

His hands continued to work down her blouse, but as soon as the top was gaping open, revealing her lace-covered breasts - why had he knocked out the lights like a total idiot? - he turned his head and sucked at her nipple through the silken fabric of her bra.

Misaki gasped aloud and pulled him even closer, fingers digging into his scalp. Continuing to suck and tease through the lace, Hei reached down to unbutton her slacks. They slid from her hips easily and pooled on the polished wooden floor at her feet.

She was almost curled around him now, one leg hooked behind his to press her pussy against the painfully hard bulge in his pants. Her long tail of hair brushed along the skin of his back and he shivered despite the heat between their half-clothed bodies. Her hips ground back and forth in the tight space, each movement threatening to drive him mad with need for her.

It was hardly believable that someone as - as _good_ as Misaki could possibly want someone like him. Maybe she had a thing for men who were completely wrong for her; maybe she got off on the danger of it. Right at this moment, though, Hei didn't care what the reason was.

He had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. Not even Amber, and he'd been a teenage boy with out of control hormones then. But the first meeting with her in the hotel bathroom, that glimpse of compassion in her eyes - maybe even that brief brush of their hands in the rooftop garden - had rooted her firmly in his heart. It would take a lot more than a knife to cut her out.

The rubbing of her pussy against his crotch was threatening to bring him to the edge already, but it was too soon. He wanted her to beg for this; beg for him.

Hei ground his knee between her thighs, forcing her hips back against the fridge, and gripped her jaw. Kissing her deeply, he slipped his other hand inside her panties, past her neatly trimmed bush, and stroked two fingers down her slit. She was sopping wet - the panties soaked through - and the knowledge that _he'd_ done this to her sent a wave of need crashing over him.

They broke apart from the kiss, both gasping for breath. Misaki nibbled at the shell of his ear, her whimpering exhalations hot against his skin.

"More," she begged, her breath ragged. " _Please_."

He dipped one finger inside her cunt and pumped in and out. At her moan, he added a second finger, crooking them to press against her wall; he swore he could feel her very pulse from the inside.

Hei picked up his pace. Misaki's moans deepened, then abruptly her channel spasmed around his fingers as she cried out. She collapsed against him, panting for breath.

Her weight was warm and heavy; if not for the agonizing ache of his cock he could have stayed like this forever. Just holding her.

Slowly he withdrew his fingers, coated in her silky wetness, and brought them to his lips. Then his breath caught as Misaki turned her head to capture his lips in hers. Her tongue slid down the length of his finger as she sucked it into her mouth.

His eyes squeezed shut at the thought of her stroking his cock with that same delicious motion. Quickly he drew his hand back, away from her tantalizing mouth. He couldn't let himself come, not yet; not until he was inside her.

Misaki seemed to have the same idea in mind. "Please tell me you have condoms," she whispered against his cheek.

Hei had had many opportunities over the years to be grateful for the Syndicate's training, but usually in the context of life or death situations. This was the first time he'd found himself unexpectedly in the arms of a gorgeous woman and in need of a different kind of protection.

Yet thankfully, the Syndicate's training had been thorough.

Still gripping her waist with one hand, he fumbled in his back pocket with the other and pulled out his wallet. Misaki was already - with no little difficulty - unzipping his fly. She tugged his pants and shorts down together, mercifully freeing his engorged cock, even as he opened the condom. Despite shaky, fumbling hands, he managed to sheath himself.

He yanked her twisted and sopping panties down her thighs. Misaki stepped out of them, laced her arms around his neck, then wrapped her legs around his hips, trapping his erection between their bellies. Hei gripped her ass to support her even as he pinned her back against the fridge.

Misaki lifted herself enough for him to position the head of his cock between her folds. Then she shifted and he slipped inside her slick, hot flesh.

Hei couldn't stop a groan from escaping his throat at the feel of her, the grasp of her tight channel. It was heady, intoxicating even. He pulled back and thrust forward again. And again, and again, harder and harder. His arms shook with the effort of holding her weight against the pull of gravity and her own thrusts. Misaki clung tightly to him, her fingers digging into his neck, her thighs squeezing to keep from slipping down.

He was losing all sense of control now, losing himself in her. He wasn't going to last much longer. Slipping one hand between their sweat-slicked bodies, he found the hard bud of her clit and pinched it. Misaki cried out; her internal muscles spasmed around him.

His balls pulled up tight; white sparks flashed behind his eyes in the darkness of the room as he came with a guttural moan.

~~~~o~~~~

When Hei opened his eyes, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. Some minutes must have gone by; he was sitting on the cool wooden floor of Misaki's kitchen, his back against a cupboard. Light was leaking in from the living room, highlighting the clothing strewn across the floor. The building's auxiliary power must have finally kicked in.

It was a sudden loss of warmth that had roused him, he realized dully, as a cold draft blew across his bare thighs along with a bright shaft of light. He turned his head towards the light, squinting up at the sight next to him.

Misaki stood in front of the open refrigerator door, bent at the waist as she reached in and pulled out a bottle of water. Hei watched, unable to look away from her slim silhouette, as she tilted her head back and swallowed.

Her hair was a ragged mess, only half still in a ponytail; her blouse hung crookedly from her shoulders and her breasts were spilling from the cups of her bra.

He'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Silently he watched her take another mouthful of water, his own throat swallowing in time with hers.

Her glasses were missing. He couldn't remember taking them off, though one of them must have at some point.

Hei knew that they should talk about what had just happened - make some sort of acknowledgment that things had irrevocably changed between them and figure out a plan for moving ahead. But the idea and its implications were too terrifying to consider; and in any case, he couldn't bring himself to stir.

Voluntarily, anyway. However long he'd been sitting there, it was long enough to stir his cock back into life.

Misaki shut the refrigerator door and stood over him. The bottle was still in her hand; she gripped it almost like it was a truncheon. Hei ought to have felt vulnerable, sitting there naked under her penetrating gaze. But his need for her, to have her again, far outweighed that other instinct.

Wordlessly, she held the bottle down to him. He took it and drank the last three swallows of ice cold water, surprised at how thirsty he was. When he'd finished, Misaki set the empty bottle on the counter and picked up something else - his wallet.

She kneeled down, straddling him, her ass resting on his thighs. Hei ran his hands around her waist, down her hips, to squeeze her cheeks while she rifled through his wallet. He heard the crinkle of foil and knew that she'd found another condom.

Her eyes were deep pools in the near darkness. Unable to stop himself, Hei leaned forward and kissed her, tongue darting past the edge of her teeth. Misaki sighed in pleasure and his cocked twitched in response against her inner thigh.

"You weren't kidding about the stamina," she murmured. She helped him slide first her blouse, then her bra from her shoulders.

"I can't help it," Hei whispered back, his voice low and hoarse. "It's you."

He tugged at the elastic band holding her ponytail and freed her hair. It cascaded down her back in a long, flowing mass. He ran his fingers through it, marveling at the softness.

Misaki tilted her head back in a groan, exposing her neck. Hei nipped at her skin as he continued to tug at her hair; then his grip reflexively tightened as she stroked her hand up his shaft.

She continued to stroke him, running her fingers first along the ridge of a vein, then twisting at the tip, then back down to do it all over again. Hei bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning aloud at her touch.

His cock was already iron-hard, precum beading at the tip. Misaki gave him a final squeeze, then opened the condom and rolled it down his shaft. His erection jerked in her hands; it was agony, waiting to be inside her again.

As soon as she had the condom on, he captured her mouth in his and pulled her hips further into his lap. Misaki deepened the kiss. There was no sound in the small apartment aside from the low hum of the refrigerator and the wet sucking of their lips.

Misaki reached between her legs; when she pulled her fingers out, they were glistening. She rubbed the length of his cock, coating the latex with her own wetness.

" _Fuck_ ," Hei whispered in Mandarin, all sense of Japanese completely fleeing his fevered mind. Then she positioned the entrance to her pussy over the head of cock and pressed down.

From there it was all a blur of hot, heavy breaths, sweat-slicked skin, and co-mingled groans as she rode him. Her breasts brushed up and down his chest with every thrust. Hei ran one hand along the smooth skin beneath them before pinching and rolling her nipple between his fingers. Her flesh pebbled beneath his touch. He sucked the hardened point into his mouth, eliciting a gasp and a shudder from her.

With his mouth teasing her breasts, he moved his hand between her legs and rubbed the swollen bud of her clit. Misaki's moans turned into cries and her hips lost all sense of rhythm. It didn't stop Hei; he only thrust into her harder, quicker, until they were both gasping under a wave of release.

Hei eased out her reluctantly, and she collapsed onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, hands tangled in her long hair, until her breathing eventually evened out.

"You should get some sleep," he murmured at last.

"Mm," was the only response that he got.

They sat there on the cold floor for long minutes…hours maybe. Hei didn't know. All he knew was that he was unwilling to let her go.

At last, his legs began to tingle from loss of blood and his back protested at the hard cupboard door. Misaki hadn't stirred in a long time.

Tired as his arms were from holding her earlier, she wasn't so heavy that he couldn't carry her to her room. He gently lowered her onto her bed, where she twisted into an awkward sprawl. A soft snore was in her exhale.

Hei stood over her, simply watching. It was so, so tempting to climb in beside her, and hold her as he fell asleep.

And then…what? Wake up next to her in the morning? Kiss her awake, and make breakfast together? Or watch the shame, the horror in her eyes when she realized what she'd done. What they'd done.

Maybe she wouldn't be ashamed. Maybe she was adult enough to acknowledge that she'd given into a misguided impulse, and then move on with her life.

 _He_ couldn't, though. With anyone else, it had never been a problem; he'd never formed an attachment. Only with Amber.

Hei clenched his jaw. The last thing in the world that he wanted was to look at Misaki with the same revulsion, the same sense of betrayal that was all he felt for Amber now.

He'd lost everyone in his life already. Misaki wasn't a part of his life; she wasn't his to lose, so he couldn't lose her. He couldn't. It would kill him, otherwise.

Hei cast one last, longing gaze on her sleeping form. " _Zàijiàn_ ," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She murmured something intelligible, but didn't wake.

Then he turned to collect his clothes, and leave.


End file.
